


cheer thyself a little

by kerrykhat



Category: Toby Daye - Seanan McGuire
Genre: Community: tamingthemuse, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerrykhat/pseuds/kerrykhat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you sure that's actually edible?" I asked, wrinkling my nose at the cup in front of me. “Or drinkable? Ingestible?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	cheer thyself a little

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Seanan McGuire owns "The October Daye Series" and all related characters; I own nothing.  
>  **Spoilers:** For An Artificial Night.  
>  **Author's Notes:** Written for tamingthemuse on LJ, with the prompt "foodist". Title comes from William Shakespeare's _As You Like It_.

"Are you sure that's actually edible?" I asked, wrinkling my nose at the cup in front of me. “Or drinkable? Ingestible?” 

"Of course it is!" May protested, looking indignant. "It's a wheatgrass, banana, prune juice…"

"I really don't need to hear any more," I interjected, staring at the smoothie distrustfully. "Are you sure we're related?"

"I mean, if you want to be technical, I'm not," my Fetch answered with a shrug. "I'm just a harbinger of your imminent doom, which I'm trying to stall by having you eat a bit healthier. This is pure self-interest, Toby."

"Technicality, schmechnicality. I'm still not drinking that."

"Come on, Toby! It's good for you," May pleaded. "You can't survive on coffee and takeout alone!"

"Just watch me," I shot back. Grabbing my mug of coffee and leaving behind the cup of toxic looking sludge, I made my way to the living room, ignoring the cats and rose goblin underfoot.

"Sylvester would back me up," May called after me. 

A knock at the door interrupted what I was about to say. Checking the peephole, I sighed when I saw who it was.

"Don't you have somewhere you need to be? Does Etienne not work you hard enough?” I asked Quentin, opening the door and letting him inside. “Do I need to talk to Sylvester about giving you more to do now that you have so much free time on your hands?”

“Cute, Toby,” he shot back, letting his glamour dissolve once I closed the door, filling the air with the scent of heather and steel. “Hi, May!”

“Hey, kid!” she called back before the blender started again.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” I told him in response to his raised eyebrow. 

“I didn’t know you even owned a blender,” he commented as he collapsed on the sofa. In the few weeks since he’d dropped out of high school after the Luideaeg erased all memories of Faerie from his girlfriend’s memory, he’d become a frequent guest of my humble little apartment. I didn’t mind. Between him and May moving in, I rather liked the company.

Of course, there were limits to my patience.

“No, not ESPN again!” I complained. “And of course I own a blender!”

“No, don’t change it!” May shouted at the same time. “It’s women’s soccer,” she explained when I looked over at her. “Much better than baseball.”

“OK, then,” I conceded, slumping down next to the teenager. It was better than May’s usual fare of B-level horror movies. Who would’ve thought that my Fetch had a penchant for bad movies and hogging the remote?

“Try this, Quentin,” May offered, sitting down on the other side of him. In her hand was a cup of the noxious green muck she’d tried to force on me. 

He took one sniff of it and wrinkled his nose, giving May a worried look. “Is this some weird sort of Fetch thing?”

“No, it’s May trying to be _healthy_.”

“Are you sure she’s somehow connected to you?” 

“That was my question,” I replied, wincing as Cagney jumped on my lap with claws fully extended. 

“Shut up, both of you. At least somebody in this apartment is setting a good example.”

Quentin and I watched in respective awe and horror as May downed her blend in one go. She sputtered for a second before giving us a wide, green-tinged smile.

“Sure you don’t want one?”

Quentin and I exchanged a look.

“Dibs on the last thing of Pop-Tarts,” I called out, moving Cagney over and surging to my feet.

“Wait, no!” Quentin protested, limbs flailing as he struggled to follow me. “Save one for me!” 

“Just you watch, I’ll outlive you both!” May shouted after us.

“Just keep telling yourself that,” I replied, neatly snagging the last foil packet from the box. Feeling pity on Quentin, I gave him one of the pastries before heading back to the couch. “But there are enough preservatives in this to keep me going for a good long while.”

“Until the next time you decide to be stupidly heroic again,” May countered. “But hey. Blind Michael was enough trouble to keep things calm for a while, right?”

“Knock on wood,” Quentin murmured around his Pop-Tart as I threw a pillow at May. 

“For that, you can do the dishes,” I told Quentin. “Now scoot over. And May, oak and ash, can you please change the channel to something not this?”


End file.
